


changing everything carefully

by torigates



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alcohol, Drunk Sex, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 05:57:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torigates/pseuds/torigates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They have a rule: no sex when one of them is drunk and the other one is sober.</p>
            </blockquote>





	changing everything carefully

**August 2011. Mount Justice**

 

Wally is sprawled out on the couch. He came through the zeta tubes, and promptly flopped down. The lower half of his body is more on the floor than the furniture, but he can't be bothered to move. Conner must have been in the room earlier, because NO SIGNAL is still fuzzing happily on the television screen. 

Wally sighs. 

His parents insisted on a summer job this year. Wally gets it. It costs a lot to raise a teenaged speedster, and he has no problem helping out. It just makes for an exhausted teenage speedster, and one who has less time to spend with his girlfriend. 

He sighs again. 

Artemis is supposed to be at the cave. The rest of the team should be too. Wally thinks he should get up and look for them--there's no way he's the first one to arrive, considering M'gann, Conner, and Zatanna all _live_ in the Cave--but he's too tired. Working sucks. 

Several moments pass. Wally's not sure if he dozes or if he just lets his mind wander aimlessly. It's not that he hates his job. Working at a grocery store isn't glamorous, and the pay frankly sucks, but it's not the worst thing in the world. Of course, it's no saving the world, but then no one gets _paid_ to be a superhero. 

The light from the zeta tube draws his attention, and the familiar voice announces Robin's arrival. 

"Hey," Rob says, once he makes his way into the living room. 

Wally grunts at him. 

"Where is everyone?" Rob asks. 

Wally grunts again. 

"Okay," Robin says, drawing out the word. "You're in a weird mood. What's with you, bro?" 

"So tired," Wally says, and his voice only sounds a little bit whiny. Okay, a lot whiny. But he's seriously so tired, and he deserves to whine a little bit. Everyone else is having a low key summer break and he's slaving away at the grocery store every day for pennies! Pennies! 

Rob doesn't say anything, but Wally can tell from where he's draped over the couch that he rolls his eyes. Silently, he swears off Rob as his best friend. A _real_ best friend would have sympathy for him. Maybe rub his feet a little. Maybe get Artemis to come and rub his feet a little. 

"So," Rob says after a moment. His voice has taken on the weird melodic tone it gets whenever he's about to pull some shit on everyone. "You haven't bothered to ask how my day went, but..." Wally hears liquid sloshing, and when he raises his head off the pillow, he can see that Rob is holding up an almost entirely full bottle of amber booze. It might be rum, but considering Rob probably snatched it from Batman's stash it's more likely to be whisky. 

Wally smiles despite himself. "Whatcha got there, buddy?" he asks. 

Dick grins back at him. "I may or may not have raided Batman's stash. He's away on some--" he cuts himself off, and Wally figures that whatever Batman is up to this weekend has less to do with superheroing and more to do with whatever it is Batman gets up to when he's not being the "world's greatest detective." 

"Dude," Wally says. "That's _awesome_." 

It's not that Wally has no experience with alcohol. It's just that Wally has very _limited_ experience with it, and he'd very much like to change that. Wally loves his parents, he does. It's just that _they're always around_ , and having earnest talks with him about how if he wants to try drinking then he should come and talk to him because they'd work something out and he could try it in a "safe environment." 

It's bullshit is what it is. 

Now here's Rob with his Batman very much _not_ approved liquor, and the team all due for some bonding session, and Wally doesn't have to work again until Monday and it's going to be _great_.

 

-

 

It's not great. 

It turns out that speedsters can’t get drunk. Did Wally know that speedsters can’t get drunk? It feels like a thing he should have known, considering it was based entirely in science and science is his _thing_ , but somehow it still managed to escape his attention that speedster meant sped up metabolism meant he couldn’t get drunk.

Now, on top of being the only sober one in the group (somehow alcohol affects Martians, and Conner “just happened” to have some special Kryptonite on hand, which is highly fucking suspicious if you ask Wally), he’s also cranky about the fact that he failed to miss a spectacularly obviously scientific fact, which see above about science being Wally’s _thing_. 

Dick’s hanging upside down from the rafters. This in itself isn’t anything unusual, except Wally’s a little more concerned for his safety than he would be under normal circumstances. Somehow Wally just knows that if Batman comes back from his business trip or whatever the fuck he’s doing and finds out that Dick has broken his neck then _Wally’s_ going to be the one on the chopping block. 

Plus his mom would never forgive him either. 

He signs. 

“Rob, buddy, you wanna get down from there?” he calls. 

Robin cackles. M’gann and Zatanna are sitting on the loveseat across from him, their legs curled up together. Zatanna is petting M’gann’s head, and Wally feels like if his life were fair he could appreciate that sight like the letch he is, and still he’s only human so he takes a moment or two to leer, before getting Dick’s attention again, and subtly pointing to where the two girls are cuddling. 

Dick drops to the floor, and lands on his feet like a cat before he tries to situate himself between them. 

Conner and Kaldur are sitting practically pressed up against the TV. NO SIGNAL is still happily buzzing away, and Wally wonders if it looks like one of those weird kaleidoscope puzzles where you have to cross your eyes and hope somehow an image will appear in all that mess. He also wonders if maybe the Kryptonite Conner brought was a little more hallucinogenic than Conner led them to believe. 

Wally can’t see Artemis anywhere, and he contemplates getting up to go and find her. Ultimately, he decides he’s too grumpy, and doesn’t move. He crosses his arms over his chest, and thinks about going to the kitchen to get a snack. If he’s going to be the only sober one, _at least_ he doesn’t have to be hungry. 

Out of nowhere, Artemis plops down on the couch next to him and promptly crawls into his lap. She puts her hands against his scalp, and runs her fingers through his hair a few times. Wally fights against being soothed by the action, and frowns. 

“What’s wrong, babe?” she asks, smirking down at him. 

“Nothing,” he mumbles, trying to maintain his frown. It’s hard when Artemis has his head pulled back so she can scratch lightly at the back of his neck. 

“Come on, frowny,” she teases. “Tell me what’s wrong.” She kisses his chin and then scrapes her teeth along his jaw. She sucks at the delicate skin behind his ear, and it doesn’t matter if Wally is sober or not, that feels fucking good at all times. He gasps a little, and clutches her hips, before he hears Zatanna catcalling on the other side of the room. 

He squeezes Artemis’ once in warning. “Babe,” he says. 

She bites his ear, and kisses his cheek, his chin, and smiles down at him. “Then tell me what’s wrong,” she says with a grin. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he says, and she grinds down sharply against his lap. Wally groans. “ _Nothing’s_ wrong,” he emphasizes. “I’m just cranky that everyone’s buzzed and I’m not.” He may or may not pout a little bit. 

“That’s adorable,” Artemis says. “Want to go to my room?” 

Wally does, but he doesn’t feel comfortable doing anything, not when Artemis is drunk and he’s sober. It must show on his face because she rolls her eyes. 

“Come on,” she says cajoling, nipping at his jaw with her teeth. “We’ll just make out a little.” She smiles again, flirty and teasing, and Wally is powerless to resist her. 

She stands slowly, unfolding her body gracefully despite the alcohol, and pulls him along behind her. 

Wally follows. 

 

**November 2013. Missouri**

 

Wally’s parents plan his nineteenth birthday party, and invite the entire family and the team down to their house. It’s a “surprise party” but no one has managed to keep an actual secret from Wally in years, so he plays along, and they play along with him playing along. 

It’s a complicated system, but it works for them. 

When Wally walks into the room, and the guest shout “Surprise!” he spends a good thirty seconds acting over the top surprised, and Artemis only rolls her eyes. 

Mary and Rudy hug him with gusto, and Artemis feels the familiar twinge in her heart whenever she sees the Wests interacting with their son. She loves her mother and her sister, and they’re on mostly good terms these days, but she is forever jealous of the easy, open, and honest affection the Wests are able to share their emotions with each other. 

When the Wests step back, still smiling, Artemis moves forward to give him a hug and a kiss on the side of his mouth. His arm slips around her waist, and they turn together so he can say hello to the rest of the team and his family. 

The party goes off without a hitch, and thankfully no villainy interrupts for a change. It’s nice. Most of Wally’s family knows his superhero identity, so there aren’t any awkward moments when Robin can’t take off his glasses. 

There aren’t a lot of times when Artemis wishes she were just a normal teenager, but sometimes it’s nice to have nothing to worry about except having fun at a party. 

“I got you something else,” Artemis whispers in Wally’s ear after the presents have been opened and the cake eaten. 

He smirks at her. “Oh yeah?” 

She rolls her eyes. “Not that, you dumbass,” she says and smacks him in the chest with the back of her hand. Except, okay. Yes, that.

“Okay?” he asks, some genuine curiosity on his face, and she feels a thrill go up her spine at the thought of actually surprising him for once. 

“You’ll see,” she says, and kisses him playfully on the nose. He reaches out for her wrist when she moves away from him, but she dances out of his grasp. 

 

-

 

When his family is mostly gone, the team moves to the backyard. 

The Wests have a firepit at the back of their property, and Artemis sits back in an adirondack chair, curling her legs up underneath her. She watches Dick and Conner attempt to build a fire, and M’gann passes out blankets and marshmallows. 

Wally joins them a moment later. He’s carrying a bag of solo cups, and he has a case of beer tucked under one of his arms. Artemis takes a moment to enjoy the way his shoulder muscles bunch beneath his shirt. 

He perches on the armrest of her chair, and after a moment, she gets to her feet so he can sit down in her place. Once he’s settled, she climbs into his lap. He wraps his arms around her waist, and nuzzles the back of her neck through the long curtain of her hair. She sighs and leans back against his chest. It’s warm, and when she tilts her head back, he kisses the side of her throat gently. 

Conner and Robin finally have the fire going. They stand back and admire their work for several seconds, before Robin turns his attention to the cups and drinks Wally had brought out with him. Artemis takes a moment to boggle at the trust the Wests exhibit, letting them all sit out here and drink. They have a strict, “no hard liquor” rule, and Artemis feels a little bad that she’s about to break it (technically speaking), but she figures Wally’s earned this. 

Robin hands out the solo cups and passes a beer to anyone who wants one. M’gann is sticking marshmallows onto the ends of twigs and she hands one to Artemis. 

Artemis sticks it into the middle of the pit until it’s on fire, then pulls it out. She blows gently on it, until the flames are out, leaving behind the black, sticky sugar. She holds it out to Wally, who bites it right off the end of the stick, then kisses her with a sticky mouth. 

They eat several more marshmallows in companionable silence, their teammates talking amongst each other. After a moment, Artemis puts the twig they’re sharing down and twists to face him.

“Ready for your gift?” she asks. 

“Artemis,” he exclaims, mock scandalized. “Not in front of our friends!” 

She slaps him upside the head, before leaning back over the armrest of the chair to reach into her bag. He holds onto her to stop her from tipping over. She rights herself with a triumphant, “ah ha!” and wiggles the flask she had procured in front of his face. 

“A... flask,” he says, hesitantly, obviously not wanting to spoil the happy look on her face, but not understanding. 

“Yes,” she says. “With _special_ booze.” 

“Okay,” he says. 

“Booze _Barry_ gave to me.” She hopes he gets it before she has to spell it out for him. Judging by the way his eyes light up, he does. 

“What?” he asks. “Really?” 

She nods, and his face breaks out into a huge grin. Wally has never been properly drunk before. She intends to fix that tonight. 

 

-

 

Artemis wakes up in the morning draped over Wally’s back, with the sun streaming in through the window. She’s lying on top of him, and he has his head buried underneath his pillow. The bedroom door is wide open (another one of the Wests’ rules), and she can hear noises coming from the kitchen downstairs. The odds are 40-60 as to it being Mary or M’gann preparing the morning meal. 

She rubs her face into his back a few times, and stretches her legs. She hadn’t had too much to drink last night, wanting to keep an eye on Wally. Her head’s only aching a bit, but the inside of her mouth feels pretty gross. 

Beneath her, Wally lets out a loud groan and attempts to bury his head deeper beneath the covers. She kisses the back of his neck. 

“Am I dead?” he asks. 

She smiles against his skin. “I don’t think so,” she says, keeping her voice down for his sake. 

“I feel dead,” he moans.

Artemis rubs his shoulders a little, before sitting up and reaching for the glass of water and aspirin she left on the bedside table the night before. She prods his back a few times until he rolls over then hands them to him. 

“Drink the whole thing,” she says. 

When he was done, she pulls him to his feet and drags him downstairs. He plops down at the kitchen table, and Artemis goes to the fridge and pulls out two bottles of Gatorade. She puts them down in front of Wally, and he squints up at her gratefully. 

“Need any help?” Artemis asks M’gann. She’s at the stove cooking bacon. 

Meg shakes her head, and Artemis sits next to Wally at the table. He downs his bottle of Gatorade, then topples pitifully over so his head is resting against her shoulder. 

 

**March 2015. Dominican Republic**

 

Wally can feel his skin burning underneath the harsh sun. His skin feels a bit like it’s on fire. He whines under his breath, before kicking Artemis’ lounge chair. She lifts her head up, and even through her sunglasses, he can tell she’s glaring at him.

“What?” she asks. 

“I’m burning,” he complains. “I’m going to go sit in the shade for a bit.”

She nods, and lies back down without saying anything. Wally can already tell her skin is going to be a rich dark brown by the end of the week. He, on the other hand, will be a mess of bright red, freckles, and peeling skin. Sometimes, life isn’t fair. 

Under an umbrella, he rubs sunscreen on his chest, shoulders, and the back of his neck. Artemis joins him a few minutes later and applies the third layer to his back. When she’s done she places a kiss right in the middle of his shoulder blades. 

“I don’t suppose you want to join me in the pool?” she asks. 

Wally makes a face. “I have to wait at least twenty minutes for this to sink in,” he says. 

She shrugs and slaps him right smack in the middle of his chest. Hard. When he looks down he can see a perfect outline of her hand. 

She grins at him. 

He watches in the safety of the shade, as she dives into the deep end of the pool and swims the entire length without surfacing for air. When she comes up, her hair is slicked back, and droplets of water shine on her shoulders and arms, and he just takes a moment to admire the view. She catches his eye and winks at him.

Wally dozes, and only wakes up when he feels cold water dripping on his stomach. He opens one eye to find Artemis standing above him with two glasses. The condensation is dripping off both of them, and before he can stop her, she fishes and ice cube out of one of the drinks and drops it on his belly. 

He does not shriek. 

She sits at the end of his chair and hands him a drink. It’s bright pink, with a fresh strawberry garnishing the edge of the glass. 

“I laced it with some of the good stuff,” she tells him. 

“I love you,” he tells her earnestly. 

Wally doesn’t drink a lot. For one, it’s fucking expensive as hell for him to get drunk. Either he has to drink approximately three times his bodyweight, or get Barry to hook him up with the good stuff. Barry doesn’t like to do this for lame reasons like, “you’re still underage,” and “I feel like a dealer.” Whatever, Barry. 

Wally’s been pestering Zatanna to learn how to make the stuff for years but she refuses or says she refuses because no one loves Wally apparently. Except for Artemis. Artemis is the best and she always gets her hands on the magic booze. Wally guesses whatever problems Barry has with hooking his underage nephew up with illegal magic liquor, he doesn’t have those same issues about hooking up his underage nephew’s underage girlfriend. Whatever, Barry.

So Wally doesn’t drink a lot. He’s actually found that he doesn’t mind it most of the time. Sure, sometimes it sucks to be the only sober person in a bar or at a party, but get half a drink into Artemis and she gets handsy as _fuck_ so it’s not like he spends a lot of time in bars or at parties being the only sober one. 

Plus, it just makes him feel more comfortable to know that his friends have a DD ready if they need one. He had to sit through enough uncomfortable talks with his parents to know that’s important. 

That said, Wally can’t deny that under the right circumstances, and with the right people getting drunk is a whole lot of fun. 

Take right now for example: he’s drunk enough that the sunburn he _definitely_ got despite copious amounts of sunblock isn’t hurting. In fact, the sheets of their bed feel nice and cool against his skin when Artemis presses him down into them. 

Her lips feel warm against his chest and belly, but it’s the good kind of warm, not the tingling, burning feeling of sunburn and heat rash. 

He runs his hands up and down her thighs. Her skin is hot and sticky with residual sunscreen, sweat, and pool water. 

They have a rule: no sex when one of them is drunk and the other one is sober. Artemis likes a lot of earnest kissing and heavy petting when she’s drunk, and they’ve agreed that’s okay. Wally gets horny as hell, and likes to go down on Artemis. Usually that gets him turned on enough he’ll just rub off on the sheets. 

When they’re both wasted they like to fuck hard. 

Wally shimmies out of his swim trunks, and throws them on the floor in a damp heap. Artemis is wearing a bikini that ties up at her hips, and he pulls frantically at the strings until they come loose, and he can throw her suit on the floor with his. 

She leans down to kiss him and bites at his lips. The kiss is wet and sloppy, the two of them uncoordinated enough that it’s more a mashing of their mouths together than anything with real finesse. He sucks at her tongue when she shoves it in his mouth and she groans shamelessly above him. 

He runs his hands up her back and pulls at the tie of her bikini top. She’s grinding down against his hard dick, and he can feel her slick against him. It takes him several tries before he gets her top off, and when he finally does he leans up and sucks on her nipples, alternating between her breasts. 

Wally loves Artemis’ tits. He sucks and licks at them for several long moments, biting down on her nipples and the soft flesh. She whines and presses their bodies together, rubs her crotch against his. His cock bumps against her clit, and she reaches down between them to brush him up against her more firmly. 

They both moan. 

Finally, after what feels like centuries, she lifts up onto her knees and sinks down on him. She lets him fuck up roughly into her twice before she presses her palms down flat on his chest, holding him in place. 

She fucks him slowly, steadily until they both come, exhausted. They collapse in a gangly heap of limbs, and in the morning Artemis smears aloe vera over his neck, back, and shoulders. 

They spend the next three days beside the pool, Wally jumping in the water for five minute increments to save his poor, tender skin. 

 

**January 2016. Palo Alto**

 

Artemis likes the taste of beer. She likes the fizzy, bubbly feeling as it goes down her throat. She likes the way it settles warm in her belly. She likes buzz she gets from it. She likes feeling happy and safe, likes the way she can press up against Wally’s side, easy. 

Winter semester hasn’t started yet, but she and Wally, along with most of their friends are back from the holidays. 

She’s nestled in beside Wally at one of the booths at the campus pub. Wally bought a pitcher when they first arrived, and has been nursing his beer ever since. 

Even though he can’t get drunk like the rest of them, he likes to have one to sip on. Artemis lets him buy pitchers because it means more for her, and she likes to watch the way his forearms flex when he pours her a refill without her having to ask. 

He sets her class down on the coaster in front of her, and she turns her head into his neck, and breathes in deep. The familiar groans and chorus of, “get a room,” chime out from the rest of their friends at the table, but Artemis ignores them. She bites down on the cord of his throat, and he grunts a little in surprise. She smiles against his skin, proud. 

Wally throws a casual arm across the back of the booth. The tips of his fingers trail along her nape, tangle briefly in the end of her ponytail, before settling on her shoulder. He gives her a brief squeeze. His attention is across the table, listening to the conversation around them. He throws his head back and laughs, easy.

It’s going to be a great term.


End file.
